Life is ephemeral. You think that it’s in your hand but when you try to grab it, it vanishes, as if you are trying to grab vapor. But we refuse to admit the transient nature of our existence. We believe in its reality. But it is no more real than your mirror image. I pride myself as a rational. Everything has an answer. Each action, every event is result of something that had happened prior and at the same time each action and every event affects the future. But we fail understand the both the past and the future. And then something happens which throws us off the rail route. It is as if someone punching completely out of blue and we can’t see the hand nor can we retaliate. Our defense seems to be utterly helpless and our reaction vapid.

I mean, once life is not entirely once own. Considering life as a sculpture, the things that are beyond our comprehension shapes the final sculpture. Or I guess the sculpture is constantly evolving because of these impacts. If the events that are not in our hand affects us so much then why do we work so much to build our life? It is really fruitless. Isn’t it? We build grand plan of the future, we work incessantly towards materializing those plans, we dream of its fruit and then one fine day suddenly there is severe pain in the chest and full stop to our life story. There are thousands of ways to die but that is not it. We equally get affected if our closest relative is diagnosed with some terminal disease.

It seems like pain is the essence of our life and happiness is indeed ephemeral.